The destruction of life

The shouted words rang across the flat, dying flat, tentatively reaching the sharp, jagged hills that made up the horizon. Beyond the horizon, the
humungous, dying sun was just visible, still caught up in its routine of rising and setting, unaware of its imminent death. All over the once-grassy
flat and the once-green hills lay the decaying remnants of the vegetation and plantlife of the ruined planet. Even now, the unnamed planet, once home
to prodigous numbers of species and ecosystems, once covered with life and bright hope, was in a decaying orbit toward the dying sun. The plaet had
been abandoned eons ago, as soon as the cataclysmic erathquakes and volcanos began to emerge. Now, its name and races forgotten, it was home only to
one individual.

Ragen Taa-sholan was his name: the last survivor of an ancient, magical species. Even now, he was in the midst of casting a spell, a dark spell,
corrupted by time and hatred of all life for the vile persecution of his species. Yes, Ragen Taa-sholan was alive and even now plotted the destruction
of all life. He knew he would escape his banishment to this doomed galaxy, he knew he would have his just revenge against an intolerant universe.
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"C'mon, put your backs into it boys! Weve got alot of work to do before nightfall!"
A group of twenty assorted men and teenagers heaved on the rope, grunting and panting, vainly attempting to pull down the giant tree.
"Whew, we need a breather sarge!"
"OK, fine, but only a few minutes. This tree has to go down so we can repair the town center for the festival tonight!"

Sralomi, sitting under the shade of another tree not far off, watched in amusement the vain efforts of the men and boys. She knew exactly how to pull
the tree down, but was willing to aloow the men to sweat a little longer, for her amusement.

"Ah, what life was like for them before I came aorund Ill never know."

Before Sralomi, This particular conoly of humans was quite primitive, still wrapped up in the Ancient mindset of Male dominancy. She saw the
primitiveness in these humans at once, as soon as she landed in her old, outdated spacecraft.

The truth of the matter was, these people were very intelligent, as a child is intelligent and easily absorbs new experiences, ideas, and mental
connections. However, they lacked the means to further educate themselves. Sralomi, through her intervention, speeded up this colony's advancement by
several centuries in only a few months.

A loud, pierceing crack was heard from across the meadow. Startled out of her reverie, Sralomi looked to the men and laughed aloud. The rope had
snapped, sending them all sprawling on the gorund, with the leader of the group, Sarge, laying about with his willow cutting.

"Get up, you stupid, lazy excuses for somta pigs!"

Sralomi decided at this time to intervene with the men. She approached the group, as they still struggled to stand. At once, as soon as she was
spotted, silence fell upon the men. Some went silent in reverence, some went silence in bitterness. Not all people were pleased with Sralomi's
intervention in their lives. Sarge ws one of them.

"What do you want?" he said in a quiet voice whose tone said "get out, your not wanted".

"To help" Sralomi answered simply. She walked right past him to the great tree without saying another word. After a few seconds of building tension,
she spoke.

"You guys are pulling the wrong way. Theres a rock blocking the taproot on this side. Pull the rope the other way."

IGnoring the startled looks of awe and anger on one face or another, Sralomi walked back toward the village.

Fransio looked up from his labor with the tree, in time to see Sralomi slowly walking away. Sighing to himself, he watched her until she was out of
sight, and returned his attention to Sarge and the men.
"... heave men! Heave!"
Fransio snapped back to attention, realizing that they wee puling the opposite way that Sralomi suggested.
"Sarge, shouldnt we pul the other way?"
"Who said that?! Was that you, Fransio?! I dont need no stupid woman to tell me how to pull down a tree!"
"Sarge, it obviously not working the way your telling us to pul. Why dont you just try what Sralomi suggested?"
"Get your stupid face out of other people's business! Now shut your smart ass face and heave!"
Fransio stepped back from the rope, looked at Sarge for a moment in disgust, and walked away.
"How can a person be so selfish and stupid as to disregard sound advice, ismply because the bearer is a woman?", said Fransio to himself, attempting
to release some of his frustration.
"I dunno. Maybe some people havent evolved very far from apes."
Fransio looked behind him, in time to see Sralomi emerge from the heavy bruch by the roadside.
"Oh...h-hi." sputtered Fransio, his face reddening.
"Hey kid." said Sralomi, in a gently mocking tone.
Fansio, after seeing Sralomi for the first time, had been smitten with her intelligence and perosnality, and, of course, just as all hormonal
teenagers, her body. Fransio had not gone unnoticed by Sralomi, either. After only a few mintues of talking to him, Sralomi realized that this was
easily the most intelligent person in the colony. A pity his parent had been killed. They were revered by the colony, or most of the colony anyhow, as
the creators of brilliant innovations that made life easier to make and maintain in the colony. Sralomi, realizing Fransio's potential, took special
interest in the education of the boy. Even now, he was far ahead of any of the colony members, moving into calculus and physics where most of the
colony still struggled with algebra.
Sralomi began to walk up the path towards the town, stopping when she realized that Fransio was not walking with her. She turned aro9und to find him
staeing at her dumbfounded, yet again.
"A pity he lets his hormones get in the way, or this kid could be building starships out of trees", sighed Sralomi to herself. She beckoned to
Fransio, and he snapped out of his trance and hurried to catch her up.
They walked together back to town, idly chatting and gossiping about the colony and the coming celebration.
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Dark mists began to rise from the circle inscrbed in the rocky ground. The dying sun's light seemed to dim even more. Clouds began to form,
obstructing the sky. A thin funnel of wind slowly plowed into the middle of the circle, gaining power and speed, swirling the mists into a
tornadoe.
"Veromiun shalgret byrna!"
A spark of flame ignited amidst the tornadoe, slowly growing and growing into a wild conflagration. Now it seemed that the tornadoe was a spinning
tunnel of black fire.
Ragen Taa-sholan smiled to himself. He had done it. He had managed to achieve what no single member of his species had managed. He had made the
portal. The portal, that would transport anyone to anywehere instantaneously. Now his plan as truly taking effect. Now his domination of the universe,
and the destruction of all life, was assured. Ragen Taa-sholan would be the harbringer of death, the magical reaper of lives.

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